


Vanilla

by Heather_Night



Series: Shifter Criminal Investigative Service [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, College Student Stiles, Cuddling & Snuggling, Kidnapping, Law Enforcement, M/M, Mountain Ash, POV Peter Hale, drugged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 18:55:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13083237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heather_Night/pseuds/Heather_Night
Summary: Cutie startled violently, crying out, and Peter’s wolf demanded he take care of the creature.The vanilla scent meant being in close proximity wasn’t a hardship so Peter lifted the lightly squirming body into his arms and shushed him.Thank the moon neither his nephew nor niece could see him now as he was pretty certain this qualified as cuddling.Peter did not cuddle.  Ever.





	Vanilla

**Author's Note:**

> I'm starting a four part mini 'verse I've named the Shifter Criminal Investigative Service. I'm working on a 25 prompt Hurt/Comfort Bingo Card and creating stories around a 'verse helps me fill many prompts quickly in my pursuit of blackout bingo. Today we start out with the prompt cuddling.
> 
> I've rated most of the ficlets in this 'verse Mature and the last part will be Explicit. If you feel I need to update the tags please let me know.

Peter waited in line to place his order. He ordinarily would’ve made his coffee at home, just the way he liked it without the hustle and bustle of the indie coffee house, but duty had called and Peter had answered.

The young man at the front of the line dropped his keys and when he bent over to the pick them up, Peter wasn’t the only one watching the jean clad derriere with great interest.

From behind Peter could ascertain the person of interest was approximately Peter’s height, had wide shoulders and by comparison a tiny waist, and long legs. 

Oh, and a spectacular ass. 

He also had a deep, hoarse voice, messy dark hair and he fidgeted a lot.

Not at all a bad way to wrap up his morning although the guy was a human and as such Peter had no interest in getting any closer.

Humans couldn’t be trusted. A lesson Peter had learned the hard way.

Peter’s phone signaled an incoming text. He drew it out of his pocket and noted his boss, Sebastien, was requesting his presence back at HQ. His work as an investigator with the Shifter Criminal Investigative Service—SCIS if you were acronym happy—was very fulfilling but it left little time for non-work activities.

The cutie at the front of the line took the proffered drink and departed the Blue Moon Coffee Shop leaving a trail of sighs in his wake. Peter noted the front of the young man was as arresting as the backside between pink lips, pale skin dotted with beauty marks and gorgeous brown eyes. 

Apparently it was time for Peter to engage in some non-work activities if he was admiring a human to this degree.

At last Peter placed his order for a double Café Cubano. He loved the dark roast sweetened with demerara sugar, especially the espuma created by vigorous mixing.

Creamy foam…vigorous handling…every thought seemed laden with sexual connotations. It was definitely high time Peter’s social calendar opened up a bit to accommodate some of these impulses.

Peter was a born were, fully integrated with his wolf, but the animal grumbled within letting him know it was in full agreement.

Stepping out onto the shadowed sidewalk, Peter headed for the parking garage where he’d left his car. If he cut through the alley coming up then he could jump the parking barricade and be on the road within minutes.

A noise caught Peter’s attention. There was rustling of clothing and scuffling of shoes not to mention the heavy breathing.

Peaking down the alley, Peter discovered an assault in progress. A large man had a cloth clamped over the lower face of the cutie from Blue Moon.

Blue eyeshine flashed at Peter; the large man was a shifter with history enough to turn his eyes bright blue.

Peter texted his boss the basics—his location and that a civilian was being assaulted—and then he waded into the fray. It didn’t matter that the cutie was on Peter’s no-trust list because Peter was sworn to uphold both supernatural and human law.

His poor Café Cubano was sacrificed against the side of the wall as Peter sprinted toward the tussle although it wasn’t much of a tussle at this point. Cutie thrashed weakly against the cloth pressed against his face and bucked sluggishly against the arm clamped over his front. 

It was highly clichéd but Peter suspected the cloth was soaked with chloroform.

The shifter must be a moron. According to some research Peter had done for a case, it took at least five minutes of inhaling an item soaked in chloroform to render a person unconscious. Not only that but after a person had lost consciousness due to chloroform inhalation, a continuous volume had to be administered and the chin had to be supported in order to keep the tongue from obstructing the airway unless you were trying to kill the person.

Things were looking dire for the cutie.

Peter engaged the thug, as Cutie was dropped unceremoniously to the ground. He was able to get in a few good strikes, reveling in the combat, when something sharp pinched his arm.

Glancing down, Peter yanked the dark out of his biceps.

This wasn’t good.

It was the opposite of good.

Peter dropped to a knee and then his ass as his vision darkened.

_Sebastien had better find them quickly or Peter didn’t like Cutie’s chances._

He had the sensation of being dragged over ground but the drug in his system kept him too far under to do anything about his rough treatment. 

Peter roused slowly, inhaling the delightful scent beneath his nose. It was a powdery vanilla scent, but not candy-sweet, with light notes of lemon and bergamot. 

Apparently vanilla was an aphrodisiac to Peter’s wolf despite Peter being the opposite of vanilla. Just ask his sexual partners, they could confirm that little fact.

The space was a bit confined, or at least something was weighing him down. Peter blinked his eyes open to discover he was leaning against a wall, a warm body sprawled in his lap.

The lovely vanilla scent originated from where his nose was buried at the back of someone’s neck.

Peter’s eyes focused and he verified it was the coffee house cutie lounging in his arms. The soft, even respirations meant the human hadn’t suffered any adverse effects from the chloroform or whatever knockout agent had been used.

Setting the human carefully aside, Peter explored the area. There were three walls and the fourth was open. Peter put his hand out and was knocked back a few steps; Mountain Ash.

His cell phone and service revolver were missing. Of course. 

The human groaned and Peter returned to his side, mainly because there wasn’t enough space for them to remain apart.

Cutie crinkled his nose and emitted a series of low, feeble sounds. Peter’s wolf interpreted this noise as whimpers and immediately wanted to comfort the human.

Peter wasn’t feeling particularly comforting until Cutie groaned lowly. Rolling his eyes, Peter kneeled next to the human and put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly.

Cutie startled violently, crying out, and Peter’s wolf demanded he take care of the creature.

The vanilla scent meant being in close proximity wasn’t a hardship so Peter lifted the lightly squirming body into his arms and shushed him.

Thank the moon neither his nephew nor niece could see him now as he was pretty certain this qualified as cuddling.

Peter did not cuddle. Ever. 

The human buried his nose into the side of Peter’s neck and quieted.

Peter’s wolf preened.

Peter rolled his eyes.

At least the human stopped whimpering and writhing although the scent of discomfort dueled with the coveted vanilla scent.

Peter’s wolf settled, pleased with the role of keeping the human safe in its arms.

The human in his arms—Peter fought back another eye roll because humans did not belong in his arms—twitched again before Peter felt eyelashes flutter against his neck.

“That bastard got both of us?” Cutie rasped the words out with a low groan while burrowing farther into Peter’s arms.

“He did. Help should be on the way.” Peter kept his tone light and carefree; he didn’t want a panicked human on his hands, especially in this confined space. In fact, Peter should establish rapport with the young man to keep him calm. “My name is Peter, what’s your name?”

“Stiles.” The young man, Stiles, shifted on Peter’s lap and not only Peter’s wolf took notice; it had been a long, dry spell—due to work only—and Peter’s groin was very interested in the firm, curved surface pressing down upon it.

“Uh, sorry. I don’t suppose that’s a gun in your pocket?” Stiles stilled his motions.

Peter snorted. “Not hardly. I would put you down but there’s not really room in here.”

Stiles—what an odd name—pulled away from Peter’s shoulder and looked around. “What’s over there?”

“Mountain Ash.” Some humans had a passing acquaintance with werewolf weaknesses. In his experience these humans used those weaknesses against Peter. Most humans were clueless.

“Can you help me up?” Stiles requested.

Peter shrugged before gathering Stiles into his arms more closely and rising to his feet. Once he was upright he set Stiles down.

The human promptly staggered and practically wilted into Peter’s arms.

Peter’s wolf was whining in distress. Peter held the human close until his breathing returned to normal and straightened up. “Sorry, dizzy.”

Stiles tottered toward the Mountain Ash like a newborn colt and Peter stayed close in case he fainted.

Not just anyone could break a Mountain Ash line and when Stiles edged closer, Peter cautioned him. “Mountain Ash is—”

Stiles interrupted Peter, “Powered by belief. A person has to understand the mechanism to trigger its magic and conversely they need that belief to break the seal.” 

Peter closed his gaping mouth. It was an unattractive look on anyone and Peter worked hard to relegate it to the sidelines. Still, he had questions. “How do you—?”

“Oh, sorry, my best friend is a bitten werewolf. I’m also working on my Masters in Supernatural Studies before I apply to the police academy . I’ve got this.” Stiles shrugged self consciously as Peter continued to stare at him.

Something itched at the back of Peter’s mind about the human standing before him. His name, his association with a bitten werewolf…Stiles scuffed the toe of his Converse over the line. Peter forgot about this line of thought as his ears popped as the pressure lifted. 

Before they could flee the area, the large shifter who had knocked Stiles out reappeared.

Peter’s wolf rose to the occasion, clawing and kicking the other shifter into submission, bent on protecting the human.

At last the shifter failed to rise to his feet.

Something wet coated Peter’s face and hands. Blood.

Peter tried to remain a respectable distance from Stiles but the younger man refused to heed his social cues and flung himself into Peter’s arms. “That was awesome. I’ve never seen a combination of moves like that before.”

Before Peter could reciprocate Stiles’s affections, the human withdrew, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Peter’s wolf grumbled at the loss of contact.

Peter echoed the grumble.

Sirens approached and Peter led Stiles past the downed shifter, up the stairs and outside into the fresh air. Someone other than the shifter had put down the Mountain Ash and that person could still be in the area, primed for mischief.

Stiles shifted from foot to foot. “My phone is missing otherwise I’d ask for your number. Do you think you might want to go for coffee or something later, after this is all sorted out?”

Peter thought longingly of his wasted Café Cubano, spilled against the alley wall. Maybe Stiles had noticed him at the Blue Moon and was just interested in a cup of coffee with the person who had been kidnapped with him.

Vanilla wafted toward Peter. Or not. The human was aroused. It could be the after affects of adrenaline.

Peter’s wolf pranced.

Screw it, so did Peter. He didn’t care the reason why, he wanted to spend more time with this fantastic smelling individual who had more than a passing knowledge of Peter’s world. 

“It would be my pleasure.”

Especially if Peter had his way.

Finis

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't actually sure what I was going to do with the prompt of cuddling so I managed to surprise myself when I started a new 'verse featuring Peter in a law enforcement role again. This 'verse borrows more elements from show which will become more apparent in the next part.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
